


The Ex

by LostinFic



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Ficlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 09:42:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2727653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostinFic/pseuds/LostinFic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hardy's ex-wife comes to Broadchurch. </p><p>"He won’t admit her sudden appearance fucked up the careful balance between anger and couldn’t-give-a-damn he’s trying to maintain. She makes him care. Chaos, that’s what she is. He wouldn’t mind if he knew she would be by his side."</p><p>A bit meta about their relationship and why things ended between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ex

**Author's Note:**

> This was written before S2 aired and I imagined Billie Piper as Tess (of course).

He still remembers the way she smiled when he handcuffed her the first time they met. She’d grinned victoriously as he arrested her— his first arrest— at what was supposed to be a peaceful protest in downtown Glasgow. She’d thrown a rock through a town hall window, and her eyes had sparkled with defiance. She’d looked straight at him as she did it.

That look, it means trouble. It means fantastic things.

There’s that same smile again and that same look in her brown eyes as she holds open the door to her hotel room.

 *

His ex-wife is the last person he expected to meet that morning as he gets out of his room at the Trader’s.

He didn’t know she was in Broadchurch.

She didn’t know he lived in a hotel.

She stops, her key still in the lock of the door to her room. He’s so caught off guard that he smiles at her with genuine delight. The last few days have been rough, what with Jack Marshall’s funerals, and seeing a friendly face… He missed her so. In this tiny moment in time, he doesn’t see the ex-wife who betrayed him but Tess, his brilliant, rebel girl.  The one he’d loved more than his cynical mind had thought possible. The one he loves more than his broken heart can endure. One blink and the universe sets itself right again. He sees her as she is and it’s a sliver of ice going through his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Alec asks and it sounds like an accusation.

She pushes a strand of dyed blonde hair behind her ear.

“I saw the headline: Worst cop in Britain… I was worried about you.”

“You should’ve just called,” he replies as he briskly walks past her.

He’s almost out the door when she asks:

“And you? What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“No, I mean, in this town. What are you hoping to achieve by punishing yourself? Become a saint?”

He doesn’t reply, he stands there with one hand on the doorknob, outstaring her.

“Is it penance?” she insists.

The word hits him straight in the stomach. He’s known her for half his life, it’s no surprise that he can’t hide anything from her.

“It’s none of your business,” his voice is barely audible.

“But it is! You had no right to take all the blame—”

“It stopped being any of your bloody business when you fucked Davies! Now go away.”

 

She doesn’t go away.

 

She rarely does what she’s told. In fact, she usually makes a point of doing exactly the opposite of what she’s told. She became wiser through the years, especially when she became a police officer, but she’s kept that defiant streak when it comes down to things that are important to her. Much like himself.

He can see her through the window above the sink in the small kitchen of the police station. She’s sitting on a bench in the harbour, wrapped in an old khaki parka she’s had for years. She’s been sitting there, drinking cup after cup of coffee and smoking cigarettes, for the last three hours. From his point of view, he can only see the square angle of her jaw and her hair whisked around her shoulders by the wind.

“Someone you know?” Ellie asks, startling him.

“No… yes. My wife— ex…”

“What does she want?”

Alec shrugs, and he walks back to his office before Miller can ask more questions. Whatever it is Tess wants, she will probably get it, she usually does. And with that thought, he slips on his coat and finally joins her outside.

 

He sits down next to her, and the breeze carries the smell of her perfume to his nose. The same perfume she’s had since their first date. She wore it on their wedding day too. A drop on the nape of her neck he could smell when he hugged her from behind and nuzzled her hair. A drop between her breasts he could taste when they made love. Something light and floral he could never be arsed to learn the name of.

“Your beard’s….” She extends her hand towards his cheek but drops it halfway, it stays between them, on the worn-out wood of the bench. He wants to take it and bring it to his face and revel in its softness.

 “Nevermind,” she says.

He could never quite take care of himself.

They stare out at the water, glistening under the midday sun. Passersby greet Alec and Tess’ dark eyebrows rise up in surprise.

“How can you stand this place? Everyone’s so bloody nice,” she comments, and he chuckles at her remark.

She smiles and bites her bottom lip, and he nearly takes her hand in his. It would be so easy, his fingers would fit perfectly in the space between hers and her dry skin would be soft under his thumb, she might rest her head on his shoulder.

He clears his throat and leans on the arm of the bench, away from her.

“How’s Davies?” he asks.

Her amused look turns into a glare.

“He’s not important,” she replies.

“Well, I feel much better now, thank you.”

“I’m so fed up with your self-righteousness.”

“You slept with another man,” he says in a level voice.

“You shut me out!” She takes a deep breath to reign in her temper. “Those murders, we’d never worked on a crime so horrible, and you just… closed yourself.”

His anger flares, an anger he thought he had buried, but her words stoke the embers in the pit of his stomach.

 “I had to be strong… for you, for our daughter,” he tries to explain, making an effort to keep his voice down.

“We could have been stronger together.”

He hates that she’s right.

He can feel her eyes on him, seeing through him, pitying him. He knows he went about this all wrong; he’s had months to think about what he should have done differently.

Nevertheless, she had no rights to betray him.

He stands up and kicks a rock with more force than necessary. He wants this to be over, he wants it to stop hurting. He runs his hands over his face.

“What do you want, Tess?”

She looks down at her hands and picks at the chipped red nail polish.

“I’m not sure.”

He wouldn’t be surprised to learn that she’d thought about him last night and hopped in her car without giving it a second thought. She’d always been impulsive.

“Ha, thanks, that’s really helpful… I’m done.”

As he walks away, he can’t help but look back at her over his shoulder. Once. Twice. But not a third time, otherwise he’d probably run back to her.

 

He’s miserable for the rest of the day. That is, more so than usual. Their conversation runs around in his head the whole afternoon, until he’s raging. How dare she blame him for cheating?

She always did have a way of driving him crazy.

And yet he can’t help but daydream about the possibility of having her in his life again. Being a family again. He would listen to her this time, share, communicate, the way they used to. They could be friends.

He shakes his head and rises from his desk chair, he’s not getting anything done by sitting idly behind his computer.

“Any news on Paul Coates’ DNA sample?”

“Not yet,” Ellie answers.

“What do you make of him?”

“I don’t know, I don’t see why he would’ve killed Danny that but he’s acting… weird.”

 _Tess would know_.

She was good at reading people. That’s why his superior had made her his partner. It’s probably the only reason she managed to become a DS despite her temper. For a minute, he entertains the idea of showing her the case, maybe bring her in the police station tonight.

“What’s taking so long?” he asks.

Ellie shrugs and keeps her eyes on the computer screen.

“What about Nigel Carter?” and off he goes, firing questions without giving her a chance to answer. He might as well be talking to himself, except he’s insistent, and there’s an underlying accusation, like she ought to know the answers.

“… and Tom,” he continues and that’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

“Sir, I think you should go,” she replies with balled fists.

“Go? Where?”

“Away! I don’t care where, go back home, get some sleep, shag your ex-wife. Just get off my back.”

 

Becca is surprised to see him at the inn so early which is understandable considering he all but sleeps at the office these days. He takes the key to his room from her and hesitates.

“There’s a woman in a room on my floor, Tess, is she still here?”

Becca opens her mouth to comment but snaps it shut when she meets Hardy’s eyes.

“She checked out but I think she hasn’t left yet.”

 

He takes the stairs to his floor but walks past his door to knock on one a little further.

“You’re leaving?” he asks, even though the door is opened just a crack.

“What? Now you’re angry I’m doing what you want?”

He scoffs and shakes his head.

“You never just do what other people want. You barged in here, and you— I’m…”

“You’re what, Alec?”

He braces himself against the doorframe, jaw clenched, not a word will come out of his mouth. He won’t admit her sudden appearance fucked up the careful balance between anger and couldn’t-give-a-damn he’s trying to maintain. She makes him care. Chaos, that’s what she is. He wouldn’t mind if he knew she would be by his side.

“Same old Alec,” she says when she realizes he’s not going to speak.

She closes the door but he stops it with his hand.

“Come in, then,” she says with a smug smile.

And she gives him that look.


End file.
